


Return of the Horny Ghosts

by PineWreaths



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Exhibitionism, Multi, NSFW, Pinescifica, Voyeurism, pinescest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4915690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineWreaths/pseuds/PineWreaths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper and Mabel decide to get Pacifica off the hook as they crash her father's attempt to throw a snobbish party, curse or no curse. This is a sequel to a previous story of mine: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4915615</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Come back again soon! And bring more money while you’re at it!”

Grunkle Stan’s sales pitch started anew as the last bus left, another taking its place shortly afterwards. Business had been booming ever since Mystery Mountain had closed a few months back, and he was all too happy to take money off of yet more suckers.

_Plus,_  he thought as he waved the next group inside,  _The chances they’ll be killed and mummified here are almost nonexistent!_  He pointed out a hastily-knitted quilt made of porcupine quills that Mabel had made just a few weeks ago, chuckling as yet another tourist tried to run their hand along it and got caught.

As he pointed to the sign above it, and accepted the ten-dollar bill in exchange for passing the trapped tourist a pair of pliers, he glanced around. Where  _was_  Mabel, and Dipper for that matter? The twins said they were going to stay close to the Shack in case he needed them, but glancing out the front door the lot was empty apart from the few sightseers loitering near their cars. He sighed, waving his hand as he rolled his eyes, and turned back to the group to point out the silver spray-painted marmot on a podium in one corner of the showroom.

 

 

Out in the lot, near the far, empty corner of the parking lot was a wood bench, one of many delineating where the boundaries of the needlessly-large parking lot were. The wood crossbeam was dry, bearing a few hints of moss and lichen here and there, but the careful observer would see that it was moving slightly, shifting back and forth in a regular rhythm.

Those looking closer would find a water bottle tucked under one of the support posts, the clear liquid shimmering slightly more brightly than one would expect from mere water, half-full and leaning against the wood.

Anyone who bothered to venture this far away from the Shack itself would also no doubt be able to hear something as well: Faint, muffled breathing, irregular panting, and little muted whimpers and groans in time with the rocking of the bench.

The movement had stopped when Grunkle Stan had peered out, but resumed anew when he had returned to his tour group.

“See?” Mabel whispered, letting out a little sighing  _“aaahhh”_  as she settled back onto her brother. “I told you he didn’t see anything. We’re too,  _mmmm_ , too far away for him to see anything, and we picked a sturdy bench this time.”

She couldn’t help but glance over, and feeling her brother’s stubble against her back, she could tell that he had looked too. A few dozen paces away was a similar bench, this one broken off on one side and lying in two pieces on the grass. _That_  had been a particularly panicked moment, but luckily the parking lot had been truly empty at the time. After they cleaned up, Dipper and Mabel blamed it on rogue beavers, and Grunkle Stan had yelled something about vermin traps to Soos but apparently thought nothing more of it.

Still, the two wanted to ensure that they wouldn’t have any issues like that again this time, and Dipper had discreetly checked the sturdiness with a swiftly-aimed boot yesterday when Stan had him raking the gravel in the lot.

They had managed to sneak out of the Shack shortly after the first tour group had arrived, ignoring their Grunkle’s vocal complaints as they ran off giggling into the woods. That had been some hours earlier, and Mabel had even managed to sneak out picnic fixings for them to have a little hidden lunch behind some of the thicker short bushes.

The two had a moment of panic when a small child had stared at the hovering Pitt can, but by the time the parents had come to investigate, the twins had hidden the evidence of their luncheon, shoving the can onto the end of a thin twig jammed into the ground. The parents had laughed at their child’s imagination, and then dragged him off to ogle the Sascrotch.

That was when they had moved their fondling and kissing over to the bench, and Dipper shivered when Mabel had begun to teasingly kiss him after trailing little light kisses around his chest and down his stomach. She had taken his cock into her mouth, engulfing it as he leaned back and moaned his approval as loudly as he dared. Unfortunately, that morning had been too hectic for him to rub one out in the bathroom, and it wasn’t long before Mabel had him shuddering and clenching as he filled her mouth.

He could hear her cough, but then his eyes had rolled back in his head when she had continued to suck, swallowing and cleaning him with an audible smacking of lips before tracing little kisses back up his chest to his mouth. His tongue ran along her lips, tasting both her blue raspberry chapstick as well as the aftertaste of his own cum, and he groaned again, smiling unseen.

Mabel, however, was by no means finished, and she was still rubbing herself on his leg, her back pressed against his chest as she writhed, her fingers working between her thighs as she let out little insistent whines. Dip had one hand trying to reawaken Little Dipper while the other had reached up to run along her stomach, finally coming to rest against one of her breasts as the aroused nipple prodded insistently against the palm of his hand.

Again, his sister let out a whimpering cry, and he could feel her hand move up past his arm as she bit down on the cry. His leg was wet as she slid along it, and when he experimentally lifted it a bit, she let out a shiver and began grinding against it. This had resulted in her ass bumping against the slowly-reawakening erection, and after a bit of stroking assistance, he could feel it firm up in his hand.

He leaned forward, and whispered “The sleeper has awoken, sis. Did you want to-” Dipper hadn’t even finished the sentence when Mabel had spun around, almost tackling him and knocking him backwards off of the bench with the motion.

Dipper’s breath whoofed out, but he was just chuckling after taking a quick glance around. None of the tourists were looking this way, and most of the attention was focused on a little squirrel that had perched on the rock that looked like a face, so the small puff of dust from their topple went unseen.

Mabel was obviously past the point of caring; She had growled, and Dipper could fell as she crouched low against him, her fingernails gently raking along his shoulders to trail down, and both of her hands wrapped around his shaft; He could feel her let out a husky “mmph” as she swung a leg over his hips, straddling him as she ground slowly against his trapped cock.

After the second pass, she hissed a breath between her teeth, and Dipper could feel as she guided his head upwards, and gently sat back onto him. He laid his head backwards, his hands reaching up to cup her butt as he pulled her hips flush against his, causing her to clench and run her hands along his arms before gripping his shoulders. Using them for leverage, she began to slowly rock herself on him, not lifting up, but rather rolling her hips against his.

Dipper moaned in approval, giving her a squeeze on the butt which caused her to gasp in mock approval even as he felt her twitch around his shaft. She continued to grind her hips on his, moving faster as Dip could feel her hands trail back down his chest, her fingers playing briefly at her clit before reaching up beyond where he could feel. He couldn’t see it, but knowing his twin, she was probably playing with her small, ample breasts, and the increase in her breathing and whimpers seemed to confirm that.

He groaned, feeling the familiar tingle building near his crotch, and he reached his hand up, cupping the back of Mabel’s head as he drew her into a kiss, her tongue starting to thrust into his mouth before it froze, instead allowing her a drawn-out moan as she felt him twitch, his member convulsing as his balls clenched.

Mabes just began grinding furiously, and Dipper felt like he could die of ecstasy as she began squeezing him, tightening around him as he gasped and came. She let out a matching gasp a  heartbeat later, and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his back and pulling him close as she trailed nibbles and bites along his collarbone, before abruptly squeezing him in a bear hug and stopping her grinding to roll her hips hard against his. Her whole body shook, and Dipper, still feeling his cock twitching, reached down to tuck a finger under her chin, and leaned his head down to kiss Mabel as she came as well.

 

 

The twins enjoyed the sunset from the bench, still invisible to the world and each other, but holding hands and snuggling; Mabel was tucked against Dipper’s chest, and he loved every second of his sister’s hand draped between his knees, the smoothness of her shoulder against his lightly-fuzzed chest.

As the echo of the last of the tour busses retreated into the distance, Mabel turned and kissed her brother on the chest.

“Hey, Dip, Pacifica sent out an invite for this year’s Post-Northwest Fest. I know last years was kinda a disaster, but did you want to maybe-”

Dipper just groaned, leaning back and rolling his eyes. Last year Preston and Manly Dan had begun shouting over some exchanged bout of insults, and Dipper had to intervene in order to prevent Pacifica’s father from creating the conditions for another ghost haunting, but it was a near thing. Apparently his solution was now to throw two parties, one of them open to the public and the other a day later and invitation-only, and Pacifica had somehow managed to convince him to send them invites for the exclusive after-party.

_Cheating the rules like that is going to just result in another ghost haunting their mansion-_ Dipper’s train of thought took an abrupt curve, and he grinned. Leaning forward to smooch his sister on the top of her invisible brown curls, he chuckled and said “Changed my mind, Mabes. I’d  _love_  to go to the after-party.”

Mabel turned in his arms to look towards him, probably, and in a low voice he explained his plan. After he had finished, he felt his sister stiffen as he said “So, whatcha think?”

She chuckled evilly, punching him lightly in the shoulder, and said “I think it’s time for the return of the horny ghosts.”

“But first, we have something else to deal with.”

Dipper cocked an eyebrow at this, turning to look around before abruptly stopping, as he felt Mabel’s hand run up along his thigh to gently tease a finger along Little Dipper. She was moving her body slightly, and a careful run of his hand along her back and side revealed her hand was busy between her legs.

Breathing long and slow, she brought up the hand to his lips, and he obligingly parted his lips. He ran his tongue along her finger, tasting her scent as well as his own from earlier, and he leaned his head forward, meeting her mouth in a kiss as she stroked him eagerly.

 

 

A few minutes later, in the dying light of day, the empty bench began to rock again.


	2. Chapter 2

“Please, Prince Talal, do be sure to visit again next year; Your  _generous_  contributions to the event continue to help make it a resounding success.”

The tanned man grinned, spoke a few words to his assistant, and shook Preston’s hand warmly before striding out the door. Preston straightened, clearing his throat as he allowed his butler to scurry up and straighten his tie. He accepted the offered drink, tossing the empty glass aside as he turned back to the party.

The “official” party yesterday had been horrendous, as it had been each of the years before as Preston had to let those-those  _rabble_  inside his home, his castle. They had found cups floating in the decorative lake, shoes floating in the punch bowls, and the  _unspeakable_  things they did with the chocolate fountain that had taken the head of the Northwest fortune calling three different cleaning companies before he found one willing to clean the walls and ceilings.  _Three._

It was a ghastly embarrassment all the way around, and Preston had enough of a close call those years ago with the cursed family ghost that he didn’t want to cause it to come running back, that didn’t mean they had to entertain their actual valued and important guests like savages.

Besides, he’d managed to convince Priscilla that they were reminding the town of their proper place in hosting the regular Northwest Day as they had each year before, and she was nothing if not a glutton for attention; She had immediately jumped at the idea of being able to parade in a large bank’s worth of gemstones and jewelry for two days instead of one.

He frowned as he saw his daughter moping around near the door, hanging around near the,  _eurgh,_  the _hired help._  He reached for his bell, his frown deepening when he remembered that it had gone missing last year. He’d normally never have thought that Pacifica would have disobeyed him like that, but ever since she’d been loitering about with those Pines children, she’d been getting more than a few notions in her head that aggravated Preston.

In particular, this blasted recurring mantra that _“Just because I’m home for holidays doesn’t mean I live under your roof anymore.”_  It was all hot air, and she didn’t actually disobey her father directly, but it still made him mad that she would even _consider_  doing so.

It was those blasted Pines twins; He was sure of it.

A vein bulged in his temple as he fumed; He was even  _more_  aware that, unfortunately, forbidding his daughter from associating with them was about the surest way for Pacifica to cling onto them like a limpet.

The psychologist he’d hired to analyze Pacifica’s newfound rebellious streak had assured him that this would be one of the worst possible options, and so instead he had fumed and waited for her to grow tired of the ridiculous pair and put her efforts towards something more personally enriching instead. _Like embroidery, or-or something_ , he thought, before his gaze focused on his daughter again.

She had one hand perched under her chin, and as he watched she huffed, blowing a strand of blond hair away from her face. Preston just rolled his eyes, and bellowed “Pacifica!”

She started upright, before he saw her purposefully slouch slightly as she turned and walked towards him. If she’d had pockets, he would have bet ten grand that she would have had her hands shoved in them as she gave him that sullen look.

“Yes, Father?” she said, her purposefully-bored tone starting to flare up Preston’s ulcer.

He let in a long breath in and out through his nostrils, before in a firm, even tone he stated “Young lady, you have an obligation to uphold our image, and it won’t do to be seen  _associating_  with the cooks and valets.”

He sniffed in disdain, raising his arm out of the way as a waiter ducked past, holding a tray full of shrimp quiches bearing a gold-leafed ‘NW’ across the top of each one, and his look to his daughter plainly pointed out how accidental contact that might be construed as a friendly acquaintance with someone like  _that_  was  _exactly_  what he wanted her to avoid.

Pacifica just sighed, and nodded, not meeting his gaze but for now at least not showing that aggravating disobedient manner either. Preston just huffed a noise of approval, before spotting Mayor Cutebiker and striding over while bellowing  _“Tyler_ , my good man, how goes the balancing act of politics?”

 

As he left, Pacifica strode off in the other direction, towards the huge window overlooking the town. She could see the faint light in the woods that marked the Mystery Shack, and part of her wanted to just jump through the window, sprint across the garden and through the woods, and just tackle Dipper and Mabel. They were probably watching a movie, one of the countless terrible reruns, and snuggling together under the blanket as the rain poured against the window outside.

She felt the pang of loneliness again; She’d managed to meet with them once since they’d come up visiting, but her father had been distractingly insistent that she stay with her mother and father, and she was quite sure Blubs and Durland had been following her as discretely as they could attempt to on Preston’s command.

Pacifica had splurged on some of her allowance and found out about Dr. Yurm, the shrink her father had hired. She’d paid him handsomely to not report the full extent of anything he found to Preston; While her mother and father were oblivious enough, someone directly telling them what it meant when her perky mood and more open attitude coincided with the proximity of the Pines twins would have been disastrous.

She let out a growl of frustration and hopelessness as she punched the windowsill; Remembering herself, she glanced around guiltily only to sigh when no-one was apparently nearby to see the outburst. Her head dropped to look at the immaculately-tiled floor as her shoulders sagged. She could feel her chest ache, as she put her hand gently on the cold glass; She missed them, in a way she hadn’t really realized until she’d headed off to college, not to see the two Pines twins for nearly half a year at a time.

She missed dressing up in objectively _hideous_  outfits with Mabel, but still feeling more relaxed and secure than she ever did when her parents bought her the finest tailor-made dresses and shoes and jewelry. She missed poring over old history books with Dipper, gasping and excitedly showing one-another some new fact or snippet about Gravity Falls’ weird and colorful history; She missed the three of them, tromping through the woods or some mole-person cave or cursed tower, and the harrowing adventures that nevertheless made for the best stories afterwards.

She blushed a little, feeling the flush in her cheeks as she remembered the  _other_  “adventures” the three of them had started having, just a few scant weeks before the end of last summer, but the rising heat was quickly chilled as a burst of happy laughter behind her reminded her of what she missed most.

She missed her friends.

 

 

Dipper screeched to a stop, panting and laughing with relief as Mabel caught up behind him. They had scaled the wall of the Northwest compound, over a set of hidden handholds Pacifica had shown them a few years back, and the two of them stood under the shadow of the eaves. Dipper had dressed in a black jumpsuit, and while Mabel had done the same, she had sorta spoiled the effect by wearing one of her rare black sweaters, this one with a pretty stars-and-moon design in glow-in-the-dark thread etched across the front.

Both of them were wearing rain ponchos, as Dip had recommended that they only bring stuff they could leave behind should the plan go abruptly pear-shaped. The Northwest’s hired muscle had a reputation for being more brutal than was strictly necessary, and he had no desire to test out the veracity of that statement.

As if on cue, Dipper saw one camera crew mugging a guard and trying to use them as a human shield as they sprinted across the front lawn, only to get repeatedly tased halfway across. As they had done last year, the security for the mansion was mostly concentrated to the front near the gates, and the camera crew demonstrated that public interest in the Post-Northwest Day party was as strong as ever.

His laugh abruptly dying down to a nervous chuckle, Dip grabbed his sister’s hand, and tugged her towards the back doorway. They ducked inside, quickly darting into a broom closet before a passing butler spotted them, and Dipper unslung his backpack. Inside was a few sets of Mabel’s makeup paraphernalia, for part of their plan tonight, along with a little bottle of plain water in a fist-sized jug.

And then he pulled out, with odd reverence, an empty spray bottle and a large gallon-sized container of water, that seemed to catch the light almost too well. Grinning, he looked to his sister, who nodded and immediately began disrobing. Dipper swallowed, feeling his gaze sweep up her back as the light from the tiny window illuminated her skin. She swept off the sweater, folding it and sticking it in a corner behind a bucket of cleaning solution, unlatched and folded the little little zebra-print bra.

He could feel Little Dipper start to awaken, but shook his head, trying to purge those thoughts out of his head for now.  _We’re on a mission right now, so let’s try and be fucking professional right now, ok?_ His argument with his body had a limited effect, quelling the erection slightly.

Then Mabel shrugged off her pants, the winking-kitten design on the butt of her panties staring at him for a moment before she slipped those off too, and Dipper’s internal dialogue faded off into happy murmurs and grunts.

Mabel just chuckled, and waved a hand in front of his face, causing him to start. “Oh, sorry Mabes,” he muttered, quickly pouring some of the invisibility water into the squirt bottle. His twin just sighed loudly with annoyance when he accidentally spilled some in his haste, and he cursed his distraction, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of sneaking glances at his sister and only mostly succeeding.

Finally, the bottle filled, he began pumping it and misting his sister. Almost immediately she began to fade and vanish, and she pirouetted with her arms outstretched until Dipper looked to be all alone in the room.

Then he saw the smudge near her foot, and chuckled. “Uh, Mabes, you forgot a sock.”

He heard an exasperated sigh from midair, and the sock abruptly slid off to hang vertically while a pink, disembodied foot appeared. Dipper misted it dutifully, and grabbed the sock to toss with their clothes; For whatever reason, clothes soaked with the water had just looked like someone had badly smeared the colors into a blur, rather than making them completely transparent. Dipper had some ideas on a remedy or workaround, but for tonight he and Mabel had just decided to go with the tried-and-true method of pure invisibility via  _au natural._

Then he felt his sister move to give him a peck on the forehead and a gentle punch in the shoulder. He winced, chuckling, and began to shuck off his shirt and pants. When he got to his boxers, sliding them off to add to the heap of clothes behind the buckets, he thought he could hear a little sharp intake of breath from his sister as his half-erect cock was unveiled.

 _Guess I’m not the only one struggling with professionalism tonight,_  he thought with a grin as he cleared his throat loudly. There was an “Oh, sorry brobro. Got a bit, uh, distracted,” before the mist began coating him as well, causing him to rapidly vanish. He looked himself over, or at least tried to, and nodded approvingly, before catching himself and saying “Good work sis.” There was a hand touching his chest in exploration, before it moved down his arm to his hand to give him a squeeze.

“Ready to go crash a pretentious party and rescue Pacifica from a night of boredom?” she said, her voice coming from a few feet to his right. He chuckled and squeezed her hand.

“Let’s go haunting,” he said, and opened the door to lead his sister out into the party beyond.


	3. Chapter 3

Pacifica sighed, picking at the subscription card in her mother’s  _QD_  fashion magazine. She was attended by one of her father’s tailors, and the woman was trying to get her into a ridiculous and wide floor-length hoop dress that looked like it was last in fashion two centuries ago.

She  _did_  like the way the midnight blue contrasted against the pearls, but she would have died than admit it to her parents. The principal of the costume party portion was inane; Not due to the costumes, but rather her mother’s attention to detail. Priscilla had been insufferable in getting every detail right beyond the point of all reason, to the point of raiding antique brokers across the western seaboard to get some of the smaller boutonnieres and earrings correct.

She coughed, making a noise of protest as the corset strings were cinched up in the back, and rolled her eyes at the thought of her mother’s fussing. Pacifica had been dragged along by Dipper and Mabel to a convention in Portland two years back, and they had all cosplayed; It was her first time doing so, and she had actually had far more fun than she’d thought when they’d handed her the brown trenchcoat, black temporary hair dye, and blue tie. The twins had gone as  monster hunters from the same TV show as her costume, a pair of twin brothers, and to Pacifica’s surprise the three of them got a lot of compliments, and she’d quite enjoyed herself by the time they’d headed home.

 _This_  however was not fun, the dress-up being pointlessly perfect and the clothing uncomfortable in the extreme. FInally, the last lacing was tied, the last tibbon applied, and she was able to navigate her way out of the dressing room and towards the main ballroom.

She felt ridiculous; Pacifica liked smaller dresses, and this hooped one felt like she was striding around in a cotton hamster ball as she avoided walls and other patrons. Numerous passing dignitaries gave her little compliments, but they were passing trifles, platitudes that she knew she was getting due to her last name rather than her appearance, and ones she would have received even if wearing a dirty set of jeans and a t-shirt, or simply wearing nothing at all.

The last thought brought a bit of heat to her cheeks; She’d never been much of one for showing off, despite her mother’s attempts to dress her up like a child beauty pageant entrant growing up. Even Dipper and Mabel had been unable to convince her to join them skinny-dipping, and instead she just dove into the icy lake water in her full bikini, both to avoid further probing teases from the twins as well as to cool off the intense blush she had developed when they had started to strip.

The memory caused her to blush again, but she banished it with a scowl as she stalked to the entrance of the room. Inside, everyone was wearing various costumes, and she spotted her mother and father, her mother in a similarly ridiculous dress while her father was dressed like a ship captain from the same period.

 _I think the last time a Northwest was on a boat for longer than a damn river crossing was when they stowed away and came to America in the first place,_  she thought as she sighed.

She had leaned up and accepted a flute of wine, and had just started to take a sip when she heard Mabel’s warm breathy voice in her ear.

_“Hey there Paxy.”_

 

She spun, eyes scanning wildly and seeing nothing as she let out a muffled  _“SPWEEP!”_. Pacifica wiped the corner of her mouth where she had accidentally spit the mouthful of wine, a slight internal twinge of guilt passing as she the horrendously expensive antique silk gloves were stained by equally-valuable wine that had been recovered from an old shipwreck.

She straightened, brow furrowing in annoyed confusion as she didn’t see anything, but that was when Dipper’s voice whispered into her other ear, the merriment obvious in it as he murmured _“Miss us much?”_

She spun, the wineglass falling from her startled fingers to land and spill on the silver carpeting. She was thoroughly confused, jutting out a hand to wave in front of her, and jolting backwards when it hit what felt like warm skin.

“Uh…guys? Is that you?”she said as she glanced around and thanked the fates that nobody else was nearby to see her apparent mental breakdown as she addressed the air.

There was the sound of mutual chuckling, and she felt two different hands grab her outstretched arm. She took a step back at the sensation, halting, and squinting as she tried to make out anything in front of her and failed.

Then her longing for her friends won out over her curiosity, and her back stiffened as her eyes began to well up with tears. She could feel the hands release her, and a heartbeat later two invisible sets of arms and chests had mashed her into a hug. Tentatively, she reached her own arms around, some part of her aware of how bizarre it must have looked for any onlookers but the rest of her not giving any fucks about anything else but this hug, of her friends being here, now of all times and places.

She sniffled and could hear them murmuring reassurances. Mabel whispered warmly “We missed you Paxy,” as she squeezed her shoulder, and she could feel Dipper’s head nod against the side of her cheek, his mop of unseen hair still tickling her nose anyways. She sniffed, letting out a little half-muffled sneeze as she pulled back, but her eyes widening somewhat as her shifting hand felt only bare skin as it slid up Dipper’s back.

“Guys, are…are you wearing anything to make you invisible?”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Dipper’s hurried and apologetic mumble of  _“Right, can’t see me nodding. Whoops,“_  before he said "No, clothes don’t work well with the inviso-water. So we’re just here dressed all up in our birthday suits and nothing more.”

She could almost hear the grin in his voice at that last bit, and she let out a weak smile and shake of her head. They were probably messing with her, but apparently Mabel noticed her skepticism. Before she could protest, she could feel her glove being removed as Mabel said “C’mere you.” She was mesmerized by the glove then hanging in midair, almost not noticing Mabel gently holding and moving her hand.

Then she touched a warm, slick wetness, and her eyes widened in shock. She could feel her cheeks had practically caught fire as she drew her hand back after lingering for just a moment longer than was absolutely necessary. Mabel snickered and hummed appreciatively, and Dipper had chuckled as well when he figured out what caused Pacifica’s reaction.

She stammered for a moment before finally tumbling out a stunned  _“Oh._  You are definitely naked, like _very much definitely naked.”_  Her eyes drifted over to where Dipper’s chuckle had emanated from, her imagination drawing wonderful pictures for her of what lay right there within her reach and yet out of sight. She jumped in shock then when his voice was right next to her ear as he murmured  _“Want me to show you how naked I am as well, Paxy?”_

She squeaked, her libido screaming at her to nod and let her hand go on another thrilling adventure, but she cleared her throat and said in a higher-than-intended voice “Uh, m-maybe later, Dip.”

He let out a snort of amusement as she could feel him draw away from her and towards where Mabel’s voice had come from. She looked at them, and then down to the party down the stairs on the ballroom floor.

“What are you two doing here?” she said, her voice shrinking to a whispered hiss as an unattentive butler emerged at the end of the hallway and strode past her, barely giving her a “Good day miss,” as he passed.

She could feel a hand pat her shoulder, likely Mabel’s, and she said with an audible toothy grin “Well, your dad has been a bit of a butthole and is using a loophole to avoid that ghosty-lumberjack business.” Pacifica’s eyes dropped as she anxiously wrung her hands; She knew it was wrong, but now that she was off attending that private college, she’d had even less of a say in what her father did than the nonexistent sway she’d had before.

“We figured that wasn’t right, and wanted to come and help, uh, encourage him to just have one Northwest Day, and make sure  _everybody_  got a chance to mingle instead of getting segregated parties between bigwigs and townsfolk.”

Pacifica just stood there, pleasantly stunned as a wide grin spread across her face, her eyes narrowing as she looked towards her father. He was arrogantly prattling off to some banker or stockbroker again, and the thought of being able to help teach him a lesson in fairness was making her giddy.

She looked back towards where the twins were, and said “Okay, what can I do to help?”

Mabel’s voice said from midair “Well, we’ve got some supplies stashed away. Could you follow us back to the closet, and we could retrieve them?”

She nodded, following Mabel’s hand as it grabbed hers gently. She had done a good job of not lifting or holding it too aggressively, and to a casual onlooker it would just look like Pacifica had her arms comfortably near her sides instead of stretched out dramatically.

The closet was fairly close, and Mabel released her hand, cracking open the door and returning a moment later with a small blue-and-white toned makeup case and a small bottle of water. She nodded, still not a hundred percent sure of what Mabel’s plan was but getting a few intriguing ideas from the makeup case.

Then Mabel said in a hesitant voice “Uh, Paxy? It would be a lot easier to prep this stuff in secret if we had an area where I could get this makeup ready on Dipper.” Pacifica cocked her head, not understanding until the makeup case poked into the side of the voluminous hoop dress.

Her eyes widened again, and before her rational brain could offer much input, her latent burning arousal stammered out  _“Oh,_  yeah, yeah that would-would be great.” She grinned, and could feel a little shiver go down her spine; Mabel said “Great!” and ducked under the front, and Dipper popping under in the back.

She could feel the heat rising as the blush returned, this time spreading to her exposed shoulders; She could feel the heat of the twins alongside her stocking-clad legs. The layers of the dress formed a good insulating layer, and she could hear Mabel whisper in a muffled voice “Whooee, it’s gonna get hot under here. Stay hydrated, brobro.”

Mabel snickered and Pacifica grinned as she overheard, but stiffened when she felt Dipper’s hand run along the outside of her calf and up her thigh. She bit her lip, stifling any other noise as she heard him say “Hard to see in here, Paxy, but this certainly  _feels_  nice.”

There was then the sound of skin slapping skin, and she felt his arm draw back as Mabel muttered something even Pacifica couldn’t make out. Pacifica cleared her throat lightly, saying “T-thanks, Dipper,” as she flicked open the previously-decorative fan and began to try and cool herself off.

On Mabel’s muttered command of “Onward!”, Pacifica began slowly moving back towards the ballroom. She took small, measured pace, and could faintly hear the noises of the twins moving alongside her under the dress. Occasionally, one would brush against her leg, sending goosebumps up her ass and across her back and exposed shoulders, and she was fairly sure that Dipper was bumping his wonderfully nude skin against her far more often than random chance would dictate.

As they continued the odd, slow march, Pacifica bit her lip with anxious excitement.  _Can’t say I expected my friends to show up quite like this,_  she thought with a wry smile, shivering and letting in a sharp intake of breath as the two twins simultaneously rubbed along her barely-covered legs.

_But I’m certainly not complaining either._


	4. Chapter 4

The trio hobbled their way towards the ballroom, Pacifica thankful that putting on an air of grace and delicateness allowed her to not arouse suspicion while she slowly advanced. Beneath the dress, Dipper and Mabel scooted along in tandem as they kept pace.

She stopped, waving her fan to try and cool herself off; A waiter quickly attended her with a glass of yet more champagne, which she accepted with a graceful smile while internally fuming at their intrusion. While she knew the Pines were fully concealed from view, she didn’t want anything to risk that, even if they were somehow invisible.

_Actually, come to think of it…_

_“Mabel,”_  she hissed under her breath. “If you and Dip are invisible, why on earth do you need to hide under my dress?”

She started slightly as she felt Mabel pat her stocking-clad leg reassuringly, in the same manner she always did on her shoulder. “Paxy, there’s three reasons; Numero Uno is that I have to apply makeup to Dip for this plan to work, and you’re much better cover than hiding under one of the tablecloths, especially since the reveal will be easier to hide in a crowd.”

Pacifica frowned, not completely on board with the veracity of the explanation, but she didn’t interrupt as Mabel continued. “Numero Dos, we needed to bring along my makeup and some water to clean off and prep Dip’s face. Without you as our moving hideout, we’d either have to sneak a floating case and bottle past all those waiters, or sneak Dip’s prepped face past all of them.”

“Oh, that is a good point,” she murmured, stopping herself from nodding as another pesky waiter filed by and replaced her empty glass with a fresh and bubbly one. Her grip on the wineglass stem tightened dangerously as she felt a hand run along the back of her thigh, drifting upwards and briefly brushing against the lace of the panties on her butt. Her voice almost saccharine-sweet, Mabel said “And lastly, we missed _you,_  Paxy. Getting to hang out with our favorite gal-pal was too good to pass up.”

Apparently Dipper must have noticed Pacifica’s stiffening, as she felt the arm get gently whacked away from her leg, with a scolding “Mabes, we need to keep focused for this, all right?”

Pacifica could almost see Mabel’s face as she heard her scowl, and but she couldn’t help but grin as she felt Dipper’s hand linger as he drew it back past her legs. Clearing her throat, her grin shifted to become mischievous as she gently rubbed the side of her legs against one twin and then the other. There were similar shivers from both, and while Mabel let out an appreciative murmur, Dipper just snickered, and patted her just under her ass with a lightly-reprimanding “All right Paxy, we should get going before we _all_  lose our focus.”

She nodded, rolling her eyes as she caught the gesture midway through, but as she opened her mouth to shoot a reply back to him, a voice echoed with forced jollyness down the hallway.

 _“Pacifica_ , dear! Time for your speech!”

 

She could feel the blood drain from her face as she turned to see her father standing at the entrance to the ballroom, hand on an expectant hip as the other held a glass of champagne.He nodded his head, indicating for her to approach, and she began to walk towards him, feeling the twins following alongside her after a short delay.

Coming to a stop in front of him, she glanced down, feeling what little color she had in her cheeks drain away in embarrassed worry as she saw  _everyone_  in the ballroom, down to the waiters, was looking at them at the head of the stairs. He clapped her on the back, muttering to her “Don’t mess this up, Pacifica. Remember: If you screw up the family name, your name gets dragged down along with it.”

With that, his false smile returned, and he grinned at her before descending the stairs, and she followed him down, moving as slow as she dared so the twins could traverse the steps safely. A spotlight from god-knows-where snapped on as the lights dimmed when she reached the bottom, and Pacifica squinted.

A little part of her was suddenly acutely glad she had opted against the white-and-cream dress her mother had originally tried to put her in; Not only was the color an absolutely horrid clash with her hair, but the lighter material might have outlined the two sneaking twins in the sudden glaring light.

She cleared her throat, steadying her nerves as she recalled her years of public speaking classes her parents had insisted she take. Still, when she felt the unexpected hands of the twins rest on her ankle and foot for solidarity, she could feel as the confidence of the lessons suddenly was dwarfed by knowing her friends were there supporting her.

She began with a simple greeting, shifting into the start of her brief speech just as she’d planned. It wasn’t too long, and certainly nothing out of her depth to memorize thoroughly as she had done, but abruptly the memorization became spotty and her delivery hiccuped as she coughed, clearing her throat again to cover her gulp of surprise; Dipper’s hand, judging from the coarseness of the fingers, had begun tickling up her leg from the ankle, until he reached where the strap of her garter met the stocking, and he slipped a single finger under the strap.

Pacifica could hear a faint buzzing noise in the back of her mind as she took in a deep, sharp breath and continued. The audience didn’t notice the change, but her mind more and more began to override the recollection of her speech and poise and tone, and replaced it with happy thoughts regarding Dipper’s interrupting hand. She started to breath out in relief after finishing a particularly powerful point, but the audience’s applause covered her quiet under-the-breath gasp; Mabel’s hands, which she had thought might have been reaching past to scold her brother again, had instead begun caressing either side of the nearest leg, gently running along the sheer fabric as they migrated slowly upwards.

She took another breath, mentally cursing for delaying slightly too long as she launched into her final portion of the delivery. She inwardly thanked the twins for at least waiting this long to ramp up their wandering hands, as the tone she had intended for this portion masked and indeed complimented the slight flush and rising voice they were causing her.

Finally, she delivered the resounding conclusion, giving a little smile and a bow, shaking once as she felt her knees lock together when Mabel’s hand brushed against the damp spot that had formed in her panties. She bit her lip, hissing to calm her breath as her parents approached.

“Pacifica, darling, that was wonderful, as expected,” her father said, his porcelain smile fading for a moment as he muttered “But we will have to work more on the delivery in the future. You seemed altogether too distracted.”

The twin’s hands had swiftly drawn away when her father spoke, Mabel’s hand returning to her foot as a sort of comforting reminder, but Dipper feeling like he was moving away?

Pacifica resisted the urge to look down as her father continued muttering, looking about haughtily as he said “Well, if you were thinking about those deadbeat Pines, think again; This is a night for princesses, not peasants, and I expect you to remember that.

Pacifica felt Mabel shift and her own back stiffen in horror as she felt a slight breeze that could only have been caused by the hem of her dress being slightly raised. She fixed her expression, nodding to acknowledge her father while inwardly screaming at Dipper to stop whatever he was doing. Invisible disguise or not, all it took would be a reaching hand and they’d be discovered, and Pacifica didn’t even want to  _think_ about the repercussions from something like that.

Then the breeze stopped, and as Preston started to take a step towards some basketball player she didn’t recognize, he abruptly stumbled and fell almost onto his face, the glass of champagne missing him by inches and staining the silver carpeting. Muttering curses under his breath, he got to his feet, glaring at the undone shoelaces, and Pacifica stifled a snicker as she realized that Dipper had tied the laces together carefully enough that they came apart and just looked like they’d been tied badly rather than together.

As a result, her father just fumed, snapping for a butler who hurriedly tied his shoes before hastening off. He gave a rueful shrug to the staring guests, and soon their gazes shifted and the hubbub of conversation resumed, but she could tell that beneath the calm, Preston was  _furious._

Despite his rage, he strode to the small podium near one end of the ballroom as the guests clustered around. Priscilla was off chatting with some duchess or similar bigwig, so Pacifia just edged her way to the back of the crowd, murmuring “If you guys wanted to do your thing, now’s the time.”

She heard the quiet  _click_  as Mabel opened the makeup kit, and the slosh as the water bottle was opened. There was a pause, and Dipper muttered up “Uh, Paxy? Could you get us a napkin?”

She stifled a groan, shifting towards a stand with h'ordeuvres, and took the nearest one. It was a fudge ripple carved in exquisite detail to look like the Northwest Manor, and she quickly scarfed it, barely tasting the chocolate as she instead focused on dropping the napkin and almost immediately stepping to cause the dress to cover it.

The waiters had been incredibly attentive this evening, and sure enough one came by to retrieve her litter; She frowned in confusion when she saw the floor was bare, and Pacifica just gave her a little smile and a clueless shrug before the nonplussed waiter retreated back to the side of the room. She could hear as Mabel sloshed the water bottle again, and then faint movement as she cleaned off her brother’s face with the napkin.

Outside of the dress, the ballroom had dimmed, and the attention this time was on her father at the brightly-lit podium. He was blathering on about donations and kinship when she felt a pat on her leg.

“Ready, Pacifica?”

She nodded, smiling in anticipation, and murmured back “Ready. Go for it.”

With that, there was another slight breeze as both twins exited her dress, and she could barely make out something blue down at knee-level moving through the sparse back of the crowd. Then there was a scream, and another, at which point Pacifica thought it wouldn’t be amiss to add one of her own.

Still, as her scream faded and her father’s voice faltered as the murmurs and yells of fear and confusion echoed through the crowd, she had to hand it to Mabel. She’d layered on multiple shades of blue, white, and even some green, and added just enough glitter to the whole affair that it caught the light in unnatural ways without looking like Dipper had gone swimming in a tub of the stuff.

She scooted closer, stopping abruptly as she felt the water bottle and makeup case against the toe of her heels. Still, even at this distance, she could make out Dipper’s wavering tone, echoing with note-perfect spookiness as he intoned his dramatic message.

_“Preston Northwest, you have defied the ghost and broken the spirit of your family’s pact with him! As punishment, he has returned, and enslaved my soul to make sure you cannot escape your fate!”_

On cue, various bits of silverware, glasses, and various canapes and mini-quiches began to lift up and soar across the room. Knowing it was Mabel, Pacifica was still impressed at how she must have wiggled her hands to make it look like the items were levitating before throwing them across the room, primarily at her father.

The crowd by now had split, forming a clear path between the food assortments and the angry “ghost,” with Dipper’s “spirit” off to one side as he moaned about curses and doom. Mabel had grabbed a trio of candelabras, juggling them to form a flaming ring as the crowd took another step backwards.

Mabel worked a fourth candle, and then a fifth into the spinning vortex, but Pacifica could feel her breath catch in worry. She had seen Mabel juggling before, and while she could handle up to five items, adding a sixth never worked out well.

_Oh, please Mabel don’t, please don’t-_

She could only watch in genuine open-mouthed horror as Mabel’s spinning fire ring approached another candelabra, and attempted to work it into the rotation.

 

 

Pacifica was quite sure she was the only one who heard the faint  _“Oops”_  as four of the candles spilled and landed on the floor. Two were defeated by the cold marble of the ballroom floor and winked out in a puddle of sputtering wax, but the other two licked at the silver rug across the center of the room, and quickly had it ablaze in merry white flickering flames.

The remaining two candles “hovered” before being thrown towards the podium, also landing harmlessly on the marble, and with a final wail of  _“Beware!”_ , Dipper’s ghostly face ducked down and to the side, moving fast enough that it was hard to make out and follow against the sudden shadows cast by the rising fire.

As butlers and waiters scurried with buckets of water to help, and the party guests mobbed back towards Pacifica’s parents and the stage, she took a step backwards in fear as she realized the closest fire was almost licking at the edge of her dress.

She gasped in surprise as a pair of voices muttered quickly in unison "Time to go, time to go, time to go-” and she felt herself being grabbed under each arm and half-lifted, half-dragged away from the fire. Once a few feet away, the arms shifted to just grabbing her hands, and she followed them as they led her up the stairs, the fire slowly but surely following the rug to to the carpeted stairs and lighting them ablaze too.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Pacifica spared a glance back to the ballroom. The guests had huddled around, and the few fires were quickly being doused by a small army of wait staff and bucket chains. Still, she could see her mother and father, with Priscilla clinging to Preston  and her hair looking like one bucket had doused it instead of a flame.

Better yet was her father. She could see he was shouting something, and mostly was maintaining his normal air of annoyed arrogance for the world around him, but underneath it all were flashes of something else.

 

Raw fear, the likes of which she hadn’t seen since the first time the real ghost had shown up.

 _Good,_  she thought with a dark smile.  _Maybe now the damn lesson will stick._

Then she followed the twins towards the distant closet, quietly giggling in relief with them as they left the ballroom behind.


	5. Chapter 5

As they approached the closet, Mabel’s heart plummeted. Peeking out from under the hem of Pacifica’s dress, she could make out some thick lout of a bodyguard standing solidly in front of the door, eyeing the scurrying servants that passed as if any one of them might try and leap past and outside to freedom at a given moment.

She tapped Pacifica on the leg, whispering “Get me close; I’ll get what I can before we scram via another escape route.” She got a murmur of acknowledgement as Pacifica floated close to the door, observing herself in a large full-length mirror as cover while Mabel slid on her stomach under the edge of the dress.

She got to her feet, shivering in the cold that swept across her; Even so, she got a little thrill of excitement as the guard’s gaze swept unwittingly past her naked transparent body, and she quickly darted into the closet.

Inside, workers had evidently been taking buckets and mops, as the supplies for each were somewhat in disarray compared to earlier. Worse still, their clothes were covered from view by the remaining two buckets, and Mabel had seen enough passing butlers that she knew she had perhaps half a minute to find a new hiding spot. Looking around frantically, everywhere seemed more exposed than even that, until she saw it.

Recessed into a wall was the trash chute. She tossed the half-empty water bottle and slightly-melted makeup case she’d picked up on their way out of the ballroom and discarded them immediately, but the clothing-

 _C’mon Mabes, buck up. It’s for the good of the mission._  

While Dipper would hardly miss a black shirt he never wore, Mabel was feeling significantly more attachment to her clothes, in particular the glow-in-the-dark sweater. She groaned with frustration, but abruptly cut off the noise as she heard a pair of voices at the door behind her. She scurried back to the corner, a slight tremor of hope fluttering in her chest as Pacifica called to the servants, drawing their attention about something inane she couldn’t make out.

Mabel squinted her eyes shut, taking a deep breath before grabbing their stack of clothes and shoving them into the chute. At the last moment, she noticed and grabbed the spray bottle with the invisibility water, saving it as the remainder of their clothes slid down to a nasty dumpster somewhere outside.

_Farewell, cool glowy night sky sweater. You were too good for this world; Too pure._

She took a deep breath, wrinkling her nose slightly as a whiff of something disgusting wafted up from the chute, and she clicked it shut. As the door opened, she quickly thrust the spray bottle at the end of a trio of sprayable cleaner bottles on a shelf, her tension melting a the two servants completely ignored the bottle and just grabbed the two buckets before leaving immediately.

Mabel followed them out, carrying the bottle low to the floor and tucking it under the hem of Pacifica’s dress as the guard glanced the other way, before she scooted under the fabric as well. She groaned, muttering to Dipper’s concerned blue face and the general vicinity of Pacifica’s upper torso “So, good news and bad news. Good news is I have the source of our power in-hand.”

As demonstration, she gave her brother two good squirts, and his blue face vanished as if he was being erased from existence. He chuckled, and then his tone became serious as Pacifica said “Wait, what’s the bad news then?” and he echoed with “Yeah, Mabes, what happened?”

She sighed, before saying in a guilty voice “I kinda panicked, couldn’t find a better hiding spot, and threw away our clothes.”

The reaction she gets wasn’t what she was expecting; While Pacifica just makes a sort of noncommittal “Oh no,” Dipper abruptly shifts over to her and awkwardly hugs her, moving to grab her in a firm familiar hug when he realizes where her body is in relation to his. He pulls back, and she can hear him murmur “Oh Mabes, I thought you _loved_  that sweater.”

Above them, Pacifica, who has slowly been moving down one of the hallways away from the nosy guard, comes to an abrupt halt. Her shocked voice filters in from above through the fabric: “Mabel, you _threw away_ one of your own  _sweaters?”_ Mabel pats her leg reassuringly, saying with slightly-forced false optimism “It’s all right guys. Really, It’ll be fine.”

Pacifica shifts with a determined “Hmph,” and suddenly Mabel is sandwiched between her stocking-clad legs as Pacifica says “All right, Mabes, I’m giving you a hug right now, as best as I can in this stupid dress.” The squeeze from the legs subsists, and the voice comes in again. “Are…are you sure you’re gonna be all right?”

Mabel was too busy clearing the happy blank thoughts from her head to respond. Pacifica’s reaction, while unexpected, had entirely distracted her from her earlier thoughts, and she cleared her throat with a giggle. In as sultry and teasing of a voice as she could manage, she ran her hand up Pacifica’s thigh, skipping past the gap as she trailed her fingers on the bare skin between stocking and panty, and ran her hands lightly along the front of the lacy undergarment.

Then she burst into giggles again, stifling them in case they weren’t alone in the silent hallway, as Pacifica’s legs tighten around her involuntarily, the wealthy heiress taking a tottering step forward as she let out a little whimper of pleasure.

Mabel’s giggles fade as she feels Dipper’s cautioning hand on her shoulder, and Pacifica’s unexpected prolonged silence unnerves her. From the angle of her legs and how close they are to the wall she can catch glimpses of, she must have been leaning against it.

Dipper started to say “Paxy, are you all-” when he is cut off. In a deep, husky moan Pacifica leans over to the side of her dress, murmuring “We need to get this damn thing  _off_  of me, and  _soon.”_

Mabel’s face splits into an invisible grin, and she lets out an eager whimper of her own as Dipper’s hand begins to wander down her back from her shoulder, before cupping and squeezing her ass and running a finger along her moist slit. She wiggled her butt slightly in happiness, before perking up and whispering to her brother and their mobile hiding spot.

“Hey, Pacifica, is that hiding spot behind the painting still unused?”

Pacifica doesn’t even answer, but begins to scoot that direction as the twins clamber to keep pace.

 

 

From Mabel’s internal map, they’re only halfway or so to the secret room, when she can’t wait any more. She reaches her arm around Pacifica’s leg, anchoring it as she groans with frustration. “Mabel, can it wait? We’re almost there _ahohgodohmmm”_

Her protest melted into a moan as Mabel pressed her head against the damp panties, running her tongue along the sodden silk and reaching around to grab and squeeze Pacifica’s adorable lace-clad butt. She is leaning towards the wall again, panting audibly, and judging from the sound of silk on fabric, rubbing her breasts as best as she can through the corset. Mabel just makes an approving noise and continues the tease, enjoying the taste and smell when a sensation around her own thighs, draws her attention.

She glances back, stifling a laugh as she sees the edge of the dress poke up enough to permit two unseen Dipper legs from the knee downwards. He had lain on his back, scooting under his sister, and she could feel the head of his cock teasing her. Giggling, she paused in her ministrations to Pacifica to slowly sit onto her brother’s shaft, groaning and running a hand to her grab her breast, and grabbing and replacing her hand with Dipper’s when he reached up to tweak a pert nipple.

Then she returned to licking Pacifica, scooting the base of the panties aside to grant her more direct access, and enjoying the shivers and mini-convulsions she felt as her tongue parted the lips as it ran down their length. As it brushed over her clit, even without touching it directly she felt Pacifica shudder in pleasure, but hiss and suddenly straighten her back.

Mabel froze, as did Dipper, but apparently that was the wrong move in his case: There was a thump and a clatter as a passing waiter stumbled over his legs. Dipper hissed as quietly as he could in pain, drawing his legs in and in the process pushing Mabel’s back so her head swung forward to bump against Pacifica’s crotch again.

She could feel her jolt, but her voice was far more collected and calm than she expected when she began berating the waiter for his clumsiness, saying something about not stumbling on a valuable rug like this in the future. Despite the confusion in her tone, the waiter apologized and hurried on her way, and Pacifica patted the dress to signal the all-clear.

“I don’t know what you two are doing down there, but can we _please_  wait until I can participate from the waist up too?” Her tone was pleading, and Mabel could hear a very faint chuckle from Dipper as he withdrew from her and slid out from under the dress. Mabel just sat, legs curled up to her as she occupied her sudden annoyingly frustrating emptiness with her own deft fingers, envying Pacifica more than a little as she could hear as Dipper leaned against the fabric.

She knew her brobro was doing what he sometimes did to her, breathily whispering and describing exactly how he wanted to fuck her and where, in a way that made her stomach melt into warm honey and always resulted in her nearly tackling him and doing it herself if he didn’t proceed to initiate foreplay at that point.

She was envious, but judging how she could see Pacifica’s legs shivering and clenching together, she could figure the effect he was having, and figured it didn’t hurt to share the wealth of her indulgent twin every once in a while.

Then the legs started to shake, kicking slightly as her knees visibly nearly gave way, and above she could hear the faint sounds of shifting fabric. Now Mabel pouted; Dipper had almost begged her half a year back to finally try on a corset, and she hadn’t enjoyed the constriction it resulted in compared to the normal freedom of her sweaters. She loved the cleavage they gave though, and Dipper had gone wild, his hands exploring her in the steel-boned silk and running in exploratively to grasp her breasts and tease a finger between them as best as he could comfortably fit.

Rolling her eyes, she giggled and began to run her tongue along and around Pacifica’s slit, spreading it with her free hand as her other continued to apply ministrations to herself. Mabel licked at her clit, pulling and exposing it with her thumb before tickling it ever so gently with her hot breath followed by the tip of her tongue.

Pacifica’s whole body spasmed, and she started to let out a rising shriek of pleasure that was abruptly muffled to almost-nothing, melding into a second happy groan as Dipper no doubt smothered her in a kiss.Her face occupied as Pacifica convulsed and ground her crotch against her mouth, Mabel shrugged and smiled; Dipper had to do the same thing with her at first, as screaming orgasms didn’t really meld well with sleeping on the floor above your Grunkle and separated by the cheapest lumber money could steal.

Dipper broke the kiss, as Pacifica’s panting became audible once again. Mabel herself had come, whimpering as she squeezed her hand between her thighs and felt herself longing for her twin to fill her again. As the afterglow faded, Pacifica weakly muttered “Damn it, guys,” as she let out a little laugh. “We kinda had a destination, remember?”

She let out a little happy squeal as Dipper did something with his hands, but she strode off with a laugh, the unexpected move suddenly revealing Mabel to be kneeling on the cold marble floor, her hand still firmly planted and starting to run her up for a second orgasm. She paused, as the cold breeze that wafted past combined with her sudden self-awareness of how she was adding a slight slipping hazard to the floor for the next unlucky waiter. Mabel got up with a groan, and began running after Pacifica’s fleeing form, not caring as she held the water bottle in one unseen hand.

Mabel was chasing her down the hallway and turning just in time to catch sight of her ducking behind a moveable painting against one wall. She followed in a moment later, but already Pacifica had managed to get part of the dress undone, and was starting to step out of it. With a bout of swearing, her flushed form stepped out of the dress, and stumbled for a moment before catching herself.

Dipper’s appreciative wolf-whistle emanated from somewhere to Mabel’s right as she couldn’t help but feel a flush of warmth herself at the sight; Pacifica’s lace panteis and garter and gloves were all a matching ivory-cream color, a pattern of lace across most of the garter set and the stockings and gloves trimmed with similar lace.

Meanwhile, the upper part of the dress was revealed to be a separate corset, the dark blue shimmering in the faint light filtering through the painting canvas, and sparkling as it hit the diamond clusters trimming the outfit. She shyly spun in a little circle, her expression flush with both self-consciousness as well as naked desire and anticipation.

Mabel strode up to her, running a teasing finger along her exposed shoulders, before taking a half-step back in shock as Pacifica noticed the touch and spun to face her. She dropped to her knees, her hands reaching behind Mabel’s legs and finding their mark after a second of searching. Then she drew Mabel towards her, closing her eyes with a little half-sigh, half-whimper as she ran her tongue along her mound, tasting her excitement from earlier.

She clenched and shuddered, her eyes rolling back pleasantly in her invisible head as Mabel’s hands reached down to brace on Pacifica’s shoulders. Even then, Paxy hadn’t lost any of her innate talent from the last time she’d done this, and Mabel could already feel her knees going weak. She started to pull away, grabbing her hand as her expression shifted to one of hesitant worry, but Mabel just scurried back to a convenient writing desk, scooting an old dusty inkwell out of the way as she leaned back on the surface.

She led Pacifica’s head back to where it was before. This time, Pacifica was able to stand, hunching over slightly to reach Mabel, but she abruptly stopped with a squeak and looked over her shoulder. Mabel leaned up to see what the commotion was about, and could see the shape of unseen hands on the frilly fabric of her panties.

Mabel grinned, leaning backwards as she imagined Dipper holding Pacifica’s ass, rubbing his erection between her cheeks teasingly. Sure enough, Pacifica let out an insistent groan and leaned back towards him, and she could hear Dipper’s chuckle emanate from the area she had guessed his head to be.

Then she let out a gasping whimper, her nails digging into Mabel’s hips as her brother thrust himself inside her. Pacifica started to rock back to his rhythm, before remembering her location and ducking back down to attend Mael with her quick, light flicks and twitches of her tongue.

Mabel let out a moan that ran out of breath to become an almost-strangled squeak as she came, clenching Pacifica’s head in her thighs as she spasmed and rode out the wave. Meanwhile, she could feel Pacifica shudder and groan into her, sending her into a second surge following the first as her brother must have started to twitch like he did just before exploding.

Sure enough, she heard Dipper’s groan and under-the-breath  _“Oh fuck yes”_  as he came, and the rocking of Pacifica’s hips against his slowed as she pressed deep against him and shimmied a bit against the cock that had just filled her.

Dipper withdrew, and she could see a spray of dust emerge from a nearby chair as he slumped back into it with a sigh. Pacifica, though, wasn’t done yet, and scurried over to attend to his cock. She found the approximate area of midair, and her head began to bob before-

 _“Hack! Ptuie!_  Eargh, Dipper, you picked a bad and dusty blowjob chair. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Dipper snickered and went along with the joke, stammering out an apology, but Mabel could detect the hints of disappointment in both their voices over some dust ruining their fun. She looked around for a suitable alternative, when a particular gleam caught her eye.

Mabel sidled up to the picture canvas, muttering over her shoulder “Hey  _guuuyyys,_  I think I found the perfect spot to finish up that business without getting dry mouth and regret instead!”

Pacifica followed her gaze, and her flush abruptly paled.

“Oh  _no._  Oh nonono-”


	6. Chapter 6

Pacifica dug in her heels, both metaphorically as well as literally into the slatted wooden floor.

“Absolutely _not._  If we got caught, if there was even a  _hint_  we had set foot inside the Silver Room, we’d be dead men and women walking.”

She could feel a bit of the back of her throat start to tighten in panic, her vision narrowing as her breathing started to speed up, but she let out a breath and tried to calm herself as she felt Mabel’s hand on her shoulder.

“Paxy, _relax._  What your dad can’t see, he can’t punish, right?”

Her shoulders drooped, as she realized Pacifica could see neither her shoulders nor her reassuring grin. She realized that her friend might be feeling more alone than she’d realized, and moved from a hand on the shoulder to a full hug, Pacifia letting out a little worried whimper before sniffling and composing herself. She hugged Mabel back, and after a moment a mischievous hand started to trail down to giver her butt a squeeze.

Mabel laughed, stepping back slightly and around Pacifica, before reaching a hand to run between her leg, feeling the sticky dampness there her brother had left. Pacifica let out an appreciative “Ooh!” before giggling and reaching blindly for Mabel. The Pines twin stood still, letting Pacifica run her hands along her for a moment before grabbing her wrists reluctantly.

“Paxy, wouldn’t you like to disappear for the evening, and have fun without worrying?”

Pacifica froze, her hands withdrawing, and she looked around, her eyes full of both worried hesitation as well as cautious hope. Making up her mind, Mabel turned to get the spray bottle they’d brought with, only to find Dipper presumably standing there, the bottle hovering in midair. She quickly stepped back, and the bottle began spraying on Pacifica, who sputtered in confusion for a second before letting out a squeak of surprise.

“Wow, it’s making me- _uh, guys?…”_   Pacifica’s head had already faded from sight, but her headless and patchy torso was arched backwards in horror at her chest. Where the spray had hit the corset, it had looked like reality had been hit by a smear effect, the colors melding together like a berserk fingerpainting.

Mabel sighed, and said “Sorry, Pacifica. It washes out, but yeah, clothes don’t go invisible.”

She could hear Pacifica sigh in relief. “Oh, ok; I was worried something had happened to  _me,_ ” and she began shimmying at her corset. Then she stopped, and in a coquettish voice said “Oh dear, it looks like I might need some  _help_ with this pesky garment. Is anyone-”

Dipper’s voice cut in with a too-quick husky  _“Icanhelp”_  and Mabel felt a twinge of envy as she saw Pacifica shudder happily, the corset tenderly being untied and loosened in the back, before it was slid up her chest and over her outstretched arms. Revealed was a disconcertingly-headless torso, alabaster-white with adorable and perking pink nipples. Mabel let out a little giggle, and went to give one a quick kiss-

_BONK._

She stumbled back, cursing as she landed on her butt. Above her, Dipper let out a muffled yelp of pain, and Pacifica took a step back from the carry-on force of the impact, before doubling over in laughter. She tried to keep it quiet in deference to the hallway outside, but it still echoed around the storeroom as bits leaked out.

Dipper sounded reproachful as he said “That  _hurt_  Mabes,” before she gently punched in the direction of where his torso was as she got to her feet and hit his chest on accident.. She chuckled, and said “Hey brobro, wasn’t my  _choice_ to play coconuts with your coconut. Just, I dunno, make like a sonar ping or something so I know where you are, alrighty?”

She could tell Dipper was just staring blankly at her, before she heard him make a hesitant _“Boop-boo, boop-boo?”_  sonar noise. This caused Pacifica, who had just started to catch her breath, break into another fit of snorting giggles, which the Pines twins joined in. After a minutes, Pacifica straightened, and Mabel could tell from how the visible parts of her elbows moved that she must have tossed her invisible hair over her shoulder. She quickly disrobed the rest, and stood before the twins.

Dipper let out a whistle of appreciation, but Mabel could hear the sound of a gentle slap against a venturing hand. “Now now, Dip, if you can see, you’re not allowed to touch.” Mabel grinned at the note of authority in the voice, an edge of Northwest demeanor giving it a teasing yet firm tone. She held up the spray bottle doing a quick lap around their friend as she spritzed, and finished concealing her entirely.

There was the sound of movement, and a slight breeze from their friend’s hair as she did a little unseen twirl. Mabel grinned at the fake note of boredom that utterly failed to conceal the excitement in her voice as she said “I  _guess_  this will have to do.”

Then she squealed and giggled as Dipper let out a growl, and the squeal shifted to a deep-throated hum of arousal. Feeling a bit of a slow warmth building between her own legs, Mabel still sniffled in the dusty room, and reached out towards where the busy noises were coming from. She grabbed an arm, Pacifica’s judging from the lack of muscle and hair, and gently tugged them towards the hidden painting entrance and the Silver Room beyond.

Pacifica halted, taking in a hesitant breath, but then with a laugh she stepped forward, and then ran past Mabel and into the room. Mabel, grinning and giggling, muttered “Wait up!” before running afterwards, hearing Dipper right behind her.

The sudden glare of light was blinding, and the corridor was a few notable degrees colder than the concealed storeroom. Still, the Silver Room had a merry fire blazing in the fireplace, lending it a comfortable buffer of heat from the slight chill of the corridor. The entrance was wide open to the hallway and anyone passing by could see the entirety of the interior, but Mabel just smirked.

However, she could hear her brother make a confused noise, and she turned, realizing that she didn’t know where Pacifica had gone. She took a tentative step forward, enjoying the feel of the exorbitantly-expensive silvered-silk carpet under her bare toes, was about to take another when she felt a pair of hands brace against her hip and shoulder, and a warm mouth envelop her breast. She let out a little shuddering sigh, followed shortly by a disappointed moan as the mouth withdrew and her waving arms felt nothing.

“Man, Dipper,” she said to the air in front of her, “I thought you were ready and raring to go for Pacifica. Not that _I_  mind, of course.”

She let out a squeak of surprise as she heard Dipper’s voice a few feet off to her left and behind her, nowhere close to where she thought he’d been. “Well, I am. Why? You made a funny little noise a second a _-ha-haho-oh yes.”_ His words abruptly stumbled to the stupefied level Mabel recognized from when she had started to give Dipper head in the past, and she grinned when she realized what was going on.

“Paxy, darling, do we need to  _catch_  you?” She could hear Dipper make a disappointed noise, but before she could turn, she felt a hand cup her mound, running a finger along her slit while she was kissed on the cheek, a muffled “Whoops, sorry” coming out before shifting to her mouth. Pacifica’s tongue ran along her lips and darted into her mouth before she withdrew both her mouth as well as her hand with a fleeting giggle.

Mabel was panting, her vision slightly unfocused, and she could hear Dipper chuckle from the other side of an embroidered chaise lounge chair. “I take it you haven’t caught our new little horny ghost yet?”

Mabel hummed in happiness, but then let out a disappointed noise. Dipper, though, had gone quiet, and was making little humming noises himself. Mabel’s eyebrow cocked, and then her eyes narrowed predatorily when she realized it was the noise of his mouth being occupied by another. Thinking fast, Mabel ran over to the chair, sliding across it before reaching up and wrapping her hands around the grinding hips of her brother and friend, and pulling them both down towards her on the chair.

They collapsed in a heap, their kiss dissolving into giggles, but Mabel could feel as Dipper pulled Pacifica on top of him. She struggled and giggled, before leaning forward to kiss Dipper. Unfortunately Mabel was perpendicular across her brother, and the kiss brushed the side of her ribs instead. She let out a little shiver, and stretched to allow Pacifica more room as her friend shifted on top of her brother’s stomach. Arms outstretched, Mabel could make out that she had straddled Dipper, and presumably from how her butt was shifting back and forth, she was grinding her ass on her brother’s erection.

Mabel shifted her own position as she felt Dipper’s hands help move her, and she straddled his chest, facing Pacifica as her kisses moved up her rib, gently kissing around her nipple before following her collarbone up towards her cheek. She reached a hand around Mabel’s head, gently pulling her close as she laid hot, breathy presses of her lips against the nape of her neck, up the side to right under her ear, before continuing them on down her jawbone and towards a final gently kiss against her lips. Mabel let out a happy moan, and could feel herself grind her own hips with half-conscious desire.

Then she let out a happy gasp as she felt Dipper’s tongue gently tease its way along her slit. This wasn’t the position he normally used for this sort of thing, but she didn’t hear him making any objections, and in fact he let out a groan of his own as she felt Pacifica shift. Pacifica hissed through her teeth, letting the breath out into a sigh before she began to rock back and forth.

This time, Mabel was the one to lean forward, her hands resting on Pacifica’s hips as she felt her grind on her brother’s cock, and she began to trail little kisses of her own up her stomach, eliciting a whimpering shiver from Pacifica as she worked her way up, enjoying the feel of her brother’s tongue and its attention to her lower lips, running along her slit and gently teasing but not quite parting them.

Mabel could feel herself preparing to squeak as she felt the first small orgasm crest, when all three of them froze; Voice had appeared up the hallway, distinct from the silent passing waiters, and the Silver Room was the only thing in this area of the mansion worth visiting.

Pacifica began to shift off of Dipper, before his hands on her hips slowed her. In a breathless and slightly-muffled whisper, he said  _“Just hold on a sec, Paxy. They might be moving on in a minute anyways.”_

She could tell from her tenseness that the young heiress disagreed, but she remained straddling Dipper, and even began grinding very slowly on him as the batch of guests wandered in and began examining the various knicknacks on the edge of the room. Mabel could feel a rising horror in her gut, but they were too close to the guests for her to say anything.

However, she could tell that Dipper was already starting to tense as he realized the same thing, and his hot and quietly-ragged breath against her lips was making her shiver with anticipating release too. Her brother could do many things well and with ridiculous stamina, but for some reason Mabel had found that a slow, almost-teasing pace like this reduced his fuse from a slow burn to a cheap firecracker.

As she felt Dipper shiver, she lenaed forward, grabbing Pacifica and smothering her mouth in a kiss. Mabel could feel from her own tenseness that her friend was on the edge, and sure enough when Dipper bucked quietly upwards, Pacifica tensed and her legs tightened around Dipper as she let out a gasping series of squeaks into Mabel’s mouth. This, along with her brother’s panting against her clit, set Mabel off too, and she silently squinted her eyes shut as she could feel her thighs clamp on either side of Dipper’s head as she rode the crest of the orgasm.

Somewhere in the midst of their pleasure, the apparently-empty chaise lounge let out an audible squeak from all the shifting weight upon it. The three of them froze again, this time burning with mingled fear and embarrassment as a half-dozen sets of eyes swiveled to look around the room. Mabel was acutely aware that scrutiny of the lounge, even if no-one tried sitting on the invisible and nude trio, would reveal the slight indentation of Dipper’s legs and back against the firm upholstery.

From a chair a few feet away, Mayor Cutebiker shifted uncomfortably, looking around before looking down at his embroidered seat. It let out a little pitiful squeak as he turned, and he gave everyone an embarrassed shrug as they all looked back to the trophies and valuables on display.

Mabel could feel her shoulders sag with relief, and carefully, she and Pacifica got off of Dipper, no-one noticing the slight damp noise Pacifica made as she dismounted. Then her brother and Pacifica ducked out of the room, with Mabel waiting for a gap in the guests to do so when, seemingly to midair, Mayor Cutebiker muttered  _“Get ‘em.”_

Mabel turned to stare. He was just looking off towards the fireplace, a faint neutral smile on his face as always, but she saw his eyes flick over to the lounge chair she was standing next to before flicking back to the flames.

Suppressing a squeak of fear, Mabel hurried after her brother and friend. Dipper must have herd her footsteps, as his hoarse whisper rang out from near a curtain.  _“Hey._  Mabel, over here.”

She followed the voice, and could feel guilty sweat running down her back when Pacifica said “So what was the holdup?”

“Traffic,” she replied, hearing the note of too-cute innocence enter her voice unwillingly. She was sure Dipper picked it up, as he was stoically silent, but before he could say anything the distant booming voice of Preston echoed down the hall, as he belted out some distant guffaw and toast about Northwest Fest to general applause.

Mabel was surprised to hear Pacifica’s voice, calm and even yet carrying quiet anger Mabel hadn’t expected to hear. “Guys, my father  _still_ didn’t learn anything from that whole affair earlier.”

She could sense Dipper’s shoulders sag much like her own; She was glad they’d gotten to have more than a little fun with Pacifica, but it still stung that their primary mission was a failure. So she wasn’t expecting Pacifica to continue, her voice carrying mischievous determination that Mabel quite enjoyed the sound of. “I say we teach him a lesson he can’t avoid with just another party.”

 

 

“As I was saying,” Preston blustered to the minister, “It’s a matter of sheer economic-”

_“Good lord, the ghosts are back!”_

The shout sent the reassembled guests into a tizzy of shouting and fear, and looking over Preston squinted, withdrawing as he saw three billowing ghostly shrouds, their outlines and details indistinct and unnervingly blurry even in the strong, direct light of the ballroom candelabras. The shapes swirled, moaning like the damned souls Preston always tried to forget were probably buried beneath his family’s floorboards, and then they burst off in a line, scattering through the crowd before reforming around the-

_Blast and damn, not the gate lever!_

Two of them hovered around the third, as it approached the lever. In an unnatural chorus, the echoing voice intoned a warning.

_“For each party that you host,_

_To avoid your family curse._

_We’ll return to open the gate,_

_And let the rabble drain your purse.”_

Preston let out a moan, face in his hands as the central ghostly shroud floated up, the lever thunking down and the front gate ratcheting open.

Already, Preston could see them flooding towards the front door as the ghosts floated off towards a different wing of the mansion, but he didn’t care.

He was already frantically trying to figure out how to find a loophole to keep the commoners out.

 

 

As the ghosts swooped past startled waiters and butlers, they finally flew into an empty area of the mansion. There, they exited through a side door, flowing down the greens and past the now-empty front gates to soar down the road and into the woods.

A slight rumble of thunder accompanied them crossing the threshold of the gate, and they began giggling and laughing as the rain came down and they entered the forest. Fat raindrops hit the shapes, and as if wiped clean a lense, the patterns and colors of dresses became visible, as did the bare arms and shoulders of the laughing bodies wearing them.

Finally, soaking wet and entirely visible, the trio stopped near a stand of birch trees as the laughter subsided. Mabel, holding out the muddy and torn edge of her dress, moaned with displeasure. “Oh man, Paxy, I’m  _so sorry_  about your dresses!”

Pacifica just chuckled, and dismissively waved her hand. “Mabel, I  _did_ pick out my least favorite and cheapest dresses for exactly this reason. I figured we should make sure that we could ditch it in the trash if needed.”

Mabel, still eyeing the destroyed edge of a dress that probably cost more than a small car, nodded in vague understanding, before clearing her throat and looking back up.

“Alright, you two, this is no weather to be out in the rain for. Who wants to go home to the Shack, curl up, and binge-watch the first season of Ducktective on Dipper’s laptop? We finally have a Chillflix subscription!” Mabel grinned, and seeing Dipper and Pacifica’s slightly forced smiles, she rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“And of course, we’ll have popcorn and snacks.”

Her brother and friend still had on their forced smiles.

She grinned widely, giving them a wink. “And of course, we need to get rid of these wet clothes and stop the chill from setting in, so we’ll need to get naked and huddle together under a blanket for body heat. Possibly with a hot shower together later, to save water of course.”

This last statement was met with a chorus of  _“Yaaay!”_  from Dipper and Pacifica, and giggling, the three of them ran down the muddy path and off towards the distant lights of the Shack.

 

 

**FIN.**


End file.
